


receding minds

by Lee_Mix



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7276609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lee_Mix/pseuds/Lee_Mix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette recovered.</p><p>Adrien’s mind was eaten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	receding minds

They say death can arrive in many forms. For some cultures, it’s a creature clad in a ripped cloak. For others, it’s the visions of their loved ones as they walk the plank of life, plunging into the depths of the unknown. 

What nobody talks about is how death can walk seamlessly with mankind.

Marinette never anticipated the last battle she had to face against the Akuma to cost her the one thread of positivity she had from a life behind a mask. True, some may say the adrenaline rush of being able to prance through the lifeblood of Parisian nights would be considered a splendour beyond her wildest dreams, but those dreams were mere dust in her pockets compared to the thrill she got whenever her beloved street-cat with a heart of gold cast a smile her way. 

That smile laced together into two names: Chat Noir, and _Adrien Agreste._ In a happy ending, all would be well, and they would be at peace.

But Death, the brilliant chess master they are, made a bet with life. Two lives, one cost. One moved caused the inky poison that was the Akuma to leak into their heads, mess with their memories, and cause the flagstones of Paris to shatter under a delicate fingertip.

Marinette and Adrien both came out with their hearts still beating.

Marinette recovered.

Adrien’s mind was eaten.

Perhaps “recovered” is too kind a word, for a situation that has someone’s love stolen from them and replaced with a soulless replica. The way his head hung in confusion, the way those jade eyes glazed over with a lack of recognition.

(Once, she had been able to hold her head-up high to the skies whenever she was victorious. Now she cannot stand out in the sun without getting burned.)

The problem when you lose someone is that through the memories, you go on a journey and fall in love with them all over again. You fall in love with the way you imagine their voice to sound. You adore the scents that once clung to their clothes. Your heart races at the small, insignificant quirks that they used to do 

(Adrien leaves his razor on top of his soap; he’s never been able to get that cola stain out of his carpet and hides it underneath the couch; he likes to paint golden stars on every single basketball and claim he’s “sending the shooting stars back home”; and–and these are things _she promised Alya she wouldn’t dwell on–)_

Marinette sees him, sometimes. He still doesn’t remember her, but she reasons that’s okay. He doesn’t need to remember the way his face paled when the mask came off from the madman terrorising Paris was his own _father._ He doesn’t need to know that the little black cat that was a constant at his side has been laid back into slumber until the next call of heroes is needed from the world. He doesn’t need to remember all of her rejections.

(”Come back, come _back,_ **please–!”** )

Chloe helps him. She’s the only one he remembers. Marinette sometimes sees them in public, living out a life he would have had anyway. She can still see the kindness in him, and that’s rubbing off on her. 

Sometimes, their eyes meet. Adrien’s don’t flicker with anything. Chloe has to stop herself from crying.

But it’s okay.

He doesn’t need to remember the turmoil of his family name.

He can be _normal._

He can be _happy._

… 

She clasps the ring over her heart, and falls to her knees.

“Come _back_ to me…”

… 

But nobody came.

 


End file.
